


Crossing Lines

by HotMolasses



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Crossdressing, Horribly inaccurate prohibition era Panlix, I did no research for this whatsoever, If historical innaccuracy bothers you don't read this, Italian Mafia, M/M, Peter wears a dress, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, off-screen violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:19:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5125529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotMolasses/pseuds/HotMolasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is the son of Rumplestiltskin, a very powerful bootlegger/ crime boss.  Felix is Peter's personal bodyguard and problem-fixer (ie hitman).  And both of them are perfectly happy with this arrangement.  Until Peter gets very flirty and Felix finds himself wanting his boss's son, which will most likely result in his death.  He attempts to resist Peter's advances, which only makes Peter turn on his A game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

 

 

            Peter tossed another martini back and returned to the dance floor, earning shouts and oohs and ahhs from the crowd. They would have cheered for him had he been the worst dancer on the planet; everyone kissed up to the son of Rumplestiltskin, the most feared crime lord in the city. If you were in good enough of his graces to be invited to his speakeasy, you made damned sure you _stayed_ in his good graces. And that meant making sure his son liked you. Or didn’t notice you.

            But Peter was actually an amazing dancer; and so the cheers were heartfelt even if they were a little over-enthusiastic. He was as smooth as butter and as graceful as air, somehow managing to always keep track of his fedora that matched his pin-stripe suit perfectly.

            “Come on, liven it up, gimmie a _beat_ , Charlie!” he yelled at the band, and they changed to a song with a faster pace. The crowd buzzed around him, guys trying to buddy up with him, ladies batting their eyelashes at him from under feather boas and red-painted lips.

            Yet, as usual, for all the attention he appeared to love, Peter left the party alone. He stumbled out into the back ally, leaning on (that was, practically being carried by) his bodyguard, the person assigned by his father to keep him out of every kind of danger and clean up all of his messes.

            “Feeelix, I can _walk_ my own.” he slurred, his foot landing in a deep puddle. He cursed as his sock got wet.

            “Right.” Felix said, not letting go of him. He led him down to where the car was parked, putting a hand over Peter’s head as he fell into the backseat, so he wouldn’t hit it on the door frame. Felix got into the front and started it up, rumbling down the dark city street towards the penthouse apartment Rumplestiltskin gave to his son as his living quarters.

            Peter was passed out when they arrived, and Felix scooped him up into his arms, carrying him into the building to the knowing smiles of the doorman and desk clerk. Peter came home like this often, plastered on his father’s bootleg booze, cheeks deep rosy red as he curled against Felix’s chest. He stepped into the elevator and didn’t need to say a word to the operator; he knew where Peter lived.

            Felix placed Peter onto his back on the bed and removed his shoes and soggy sock. He placed his hat on the hat rack and removed his three-piece suit, unit he was in nothing but his drawers and undershirt. He pulled the blanket back and slipped Peter’s light body under it, as he had done so many times, and took up his place in the velvet armchair that faced the bed. He pulled out the paper, though he’d already read it this morning, and was about to light a cigar when Peter groaned and opened his eyes.

            Felix put the paper and the cigar down and stared at him. He stared right back with his brilliant green eyes, and then wordlessly, deliberately, reached out his hand towards Felix. He rested it on the bed, palm up, his eyes drooping half-closed, his ears flamed red from drink.

            “You wouldn’t let a fellow sleep alone, now would you?” he slurred. Felix sighed outwardly to show his annoyance at the petulant child who was in his charge, even as his darkest, most inner heart shined with excitement. He shouldn’t feel the way he did about this request. Peter just wanted a warm body next to him to snuggle up against while he passed out and slept off the booze. And that was all he _should_ want.

            Felix loosened and removed his tie, draping it and his jacket over the armrest of the chair. He slid his suspenders off his shoulders and folded his pants over the back of the chair, wearing only his drawers and undershirt and (dry) socks. He peeled back the covers and slid into them, feeling the warmth of Peter’s body radiate towards him. Peter snuggled up into his chest, and Felix placed a hand on his shoulder, nothing more. Peter was snoring within thirty seconds, leaving Felix alone in the dark with his feelings, with his racing heart, with his lungs burning from Peter’s scent every time he inhaled, with his mind drifting to places a mind should never drift.

 

            Peter lounged on his bed, lit cigarette hanging from his mouth as he flipped through the newspaper, the sunlight causing strange shadows on it as it passed through the smoke.

            “Detective Nolan declares Lady Cora’s Escort House a Legitimate Business.” Peter said, taking a long, slow drag on the cigarette in his mouth, holding it between his fingers in an incredibly feminine way.

            Felix snapped his gaze away and went back to scrubbing the blood off of his hands in the brass sink with crystal faucets.

            “However did you manage to pull that off? He was all set to arrest her last night for running a burlesque house.”

            Felix scrubbed harder, trying to get the blood out from under his fingernails. It was always so stubborn.

            “The good detective’s only daughter might be a widow this morning.” he said.

            Peter flipped through the paper until he came to a smaller article.

            “Detective Nolan’s daughter, Emma Cassidy, widowed last night due to a tragic accident…ooooh.” Peter said, wincing, “When her husband Neal slipped and fell on the sidewalk and hit his head on a pointy rock…”

            Peter turned his head to look over at Felix, who was now drying his perfectly clean hands on a towel. His clothes were already in the trash, and he was wearing only a pair of undershorts, and nothing else.

            Peter rolled onto his stomach, placing the cigarette on an ashtray beside the bed. He curled his feet up, kicking them carefree in the air as he propped his head up with his hand.

            “How _do_ you think of these things?” he asked. “All I asked you was to make sure Miss Cora was in our debt.”

            “Delicate politics.” Felix replied, walking over to the closet to select new clothes for himself. “Miss Cora sends you her thanks, and wants to know if you’d like to meet any of her Legitimate Escorts.”

            Peter snorted.

            “Why would I want that, when I have _you_ to look at?” he said, dragging his eyes up Felix’s bare chest.

            Felix’s heart raced faster, but he showed none of that in his deadpan expression. He said nothing and reached his hand up into the closet to pull out a shirt.

            “Oh come on, do you only sleep in my bed if I’m drunk, then?” Peter said, rolling onto his back, throwing one arm above his head, the other across his stomach, exactly like a woman trying to seduce him.

            “You’re not funny, Peter.” he said.

            “I wasn’t trying to be.”

            Felix made the mistake of looking into his face. Their eyes locked, and Felix’s heart raced faster.

            “You never take dames home.” Peter said, his voice soft. “You never have a lady on your arm.”

            “I’m working.” Felix replied, frozen, standing at the door of the closet with a shirt in one hand, almost completely naked as Peter’s eyes stared into him.

            “Even if you were the _most_ dedicated worker in all of history—which you are—you never even _glance_ at ladies. Never flirt. Never react to the bat of a single pretty eye.”

            Oh, he could think of a pair of pretty eyes that made him react.

            He also wanted to live.

            “I know what’s up with you.” Peter said.

            “Do you.”

            “Yes. You’re already in love with someone.”

            Neither of them moved for five seconds. Ten.

            Felix looked down at the shirt he was holding and removed it from the hangar. He threw it around his back and slid his arms into the sleeves.

            “You got me.” he said. Peter swung up to sit on the side of the bed, his legs not even reaching the floor, it was so high.

            “Well? Who is she?”

            Was Peter kidding?

            “It doesn’t matter.” Felix said. “I can never have her.”

            He tore his eyes from Peter and concentrated on buttoning the shirt. Peter rose from the bed, the silk bath robe he wore swaying behind him in reaction to his hips, his body as lithe and flawless as it always was as he approached Felix, stopping too close, inches from him.

            “And why is that, Felix?” Peter asked, his green eyes darting up to lock onto Felix’s face. “You know how much you mean to me. Whatever is standing between you and the love of your life, I’ll remove it.”

            Felix stared into Peter’s eyes, trying to read into his mind, trying to see if he knew. If he guessed. If this was just one more of his games; or if what Felix wanted was so deviant, so debauched that not even Peter could think of it.

            “If you can guess it, then I will tell you.” he said. A wide grin spread across Peter’s face. He put his hands on Felix’s chest and pushed back, laughing.

            “Oh, I _love_ games. You _do_ know me better than anyone.”

            He fell back to the bed and stared up to the ceiling, kicking his feet back and forth as they hung over the side. Felix went back to getting dressed.

            “Is she associated with one of my father’s enemies?” Peter asked.

            “No.”

            “Hmmm…is she associated with my father, then? Does she belong to him, or one of his men?”

            “…yes.”

            “Ahah! I do see the problem, then.” Peter said. “Is she married?”

            “No.”

            “A daughter, then.”

            “…maybe.”

            Peter snorted.

            “You promised you would tell me if I guessed correctly. ‘Maybe’ doesn’t count.”

            Felix finished pulling up his pants and securing his suspenders. He reached into the closet and pulled on a jacket.

            “When I tell you this, you will kill me.” he said. He was pretty sure he was going to be found out eventually; it might as well be now.

            Peter sat up, flipped over, and rolled onto his stomach. Did he need to be _such_ a tease?

            “Please, Felix. You can trust me. I promise, I won’t tell my father, or anyone else, for that matter. Is it Belle?”

            Felix snorted.

            “No.”

            “Then _who_?”

            Felix sighed and sat down in an armchair, crossing one knee over the other.

            “Only if you guess it.”

            Peter grunted with annoyance. He grabbed a pillow from the bed and tossed it at Felix, who caught it and placed it gently on the floor beside the chair.

            “Then you have to answer my questions. Is it a daughter?”

            Felix sighed. His heart wanted him to scream the truth too badly. His brain protested that this would be the end of him, but his mouth obeyed his heart.

            “No. A son.”

            Peter froze. He sat up slowly, frowning heavily, his eyes narrowing.

            “A _son_.” he said.

            Felix knew he knew, now. Peter was not stupid.

            “Yes.”

            Peter rose to his feet, his eyes narrowing further. He glared at Felix, then down at himself, realizing suddenly that his bathrobe was open, his chest exposed. He tied it tightly around his front.

            “No more games.” Peter said. “Is it me.”

            Felix’s face remained as impassive as always, even as he was sure these were his last words.

            “Yes.”

            Peter reached towards the nightstand, where he kept his revolver in the top drawer. Felix braced himself. He was ready.

            Peter pulled the gun out slowly and raised it. Felix stared at it for a moment, his heart hammering, his knuckles white as he clasped the arms of the chair. He kept his face as impassive as always.

            Peter raised the gun and brought it towards his own temple. Felix was on his feet in seconds, behind Peter’s back even before he had the gun fully lifted, his arms surrounding him, pinning his free one down as he yanked the gun from his other hand.

            “What are you _doing_?” he screamed.

            “Getting you to hold me.” Peter replied.

            Felix balked, dropping the gun with a clatter onto the nightstand. He tried to pull away, but Peter clasped his wrists, hard, pulling them around himself.

            “If you reject me, _then_ I will kill you.” Peter said.

            Felix’s heart screamed at him, tearing at itself, fighting against his mind. His mind now told him to hold Peter, or else. Half of his heart screamed for him to do it; and the other half was paralyzed by fear.

            “ _Hold me_ , dammit!” Peter screamed, and Felix did. He let his arms melt around his sides, pulling him in close, pressing Peter’s back into his chest, pushing his cheek up against Peter’s face.

            “We’re in this together, now.” Peter said. “This is our secret, that no one else can ever find out. We have to trust each other more than we ever have.” he said.

            Felix trembled, tightening his arms around Peter, pulling him close as everything he’d ever dreamed of was in his grasp. He slowly, hesitantly, lowered his lips to Peter’s neck and pressed his lips to his warm skin.

            “Fuuuck.” Peter whispered, tilting his head to the side. Felix’s heart raced in his chest, hard enough that he was certain Peter could feel it through his back. He continued pressing his lips to Peter’s neck, gently placing the kisses down lower and lower, until he reached his collar bone.

            “We are so depraved.” Peter whispered.

            Felix hummed into Peter’s neck, and he felt the smile that spread over Peter’s cheeks. He lifted his head, and Peter turned around in his arms, draping his arms over Felix’s shoulders. He looked up into Felix’s eyes with mischievous delight.

            “What, murdering people’s husbands is fine with you, but _this_ gets under your skin?” Peter asked, twirling his fingers through Felix’s blond hair- he’d always kept it just a little too long for Rumplestiltskin's liking, but his faithful servitude to his son allowed it to be overlooked.

            “Murder is necessary and solves problems.” Felix replied. “This…is unnecessary, and will create problems.”

            Peter snorted and wrinkled his nose up in a gleeful smile.

            “I love causing problems.”

            “I know you do.”

            Peter tilted his head upwards, just like a woman expecting a kiss. Felix stared down at him, hesitating, fighting against everything that told him he knew better, and against everything within him that screamed _yes_.

            “Are you going to make me beg?”

            Felix sighed. He was already doomed. There was already no going back from this.

            He tilted his head down and pressed his lips to Peter’s. Immediately, Peter opened them, his breath washing over Felix’s face, a soft, gentle moan reaching Felix’s ears. It did things to him that it shouldn’t have. Made him weak. Made heat rush through his blood. He pushed back, bringing his hand up behind Peter’s head, pushing him in closer. He slid his lips over Peter’s, delicious and sweet, seductive and mischievously evil. Peter never did have any boundaries. He would do anything. This was proof.

            Felix pulled away slowly, a string of drool stretching between their lips until it broke. Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

            “Well? How does that compare to kissing a dame?” he said.

            “Wouldn’t know.” Felix said.

            Peter’s eyebrow raised further.

            “So you only kiss boys, then.”

            Felix snorted.

            “That was my first kiss.”

            Peter’s hands fell from around his neck and he pulled back.

            “You’re kidding.”

            Felix shook his head, ever so slightly.

            “I. Um. Uh….Hmmm.” Peter said, taking a few steps back, sitting on the edge of a chair. “Well. You know I can’t say the same.”

            Oh, he knew. How many nights had Felix watched Peter bring some pretty girl home, have his way with her, then send her off in the morning? He used to do it all the time. Though he hadn’t in, well…years.

            “How long.” Felix asked.

            “Hmmm?” Peter said, leaning back, completely relaxed, letting his bath robe fall open again, exposing his chest. He crossed his legs and fished around in his pocket for a cigarette. He struck the match against the arm of the chair and lit it, inhaling deeply, letting his head fall back against the chair, his eyes closed towards the ceiling.

            “How long have you wanted to do that.”

            Peter smiled without opening his eyes.

            “I’ve been having you carry me home drunk for at least a year, moron. Get you in my room. Take off my clothes. Get you in my bed. _You_ figure it out.”

            Felix sank slowly to sit on the edge of the bed.

            “You’ve been toying with me.”

            “Have not. I meant every gesture. _You_ were the one playing ‘impossible to get’.”

            Felix’s head was swimming. He stared at the floor, trying to make sense of it all, of his life, of everything, when there was a knock on the door.

            Peter turned his head towards it.

            “Yes?”

            Felix was suddenly extremely glad that he’d gotten dressed. Peter lounging around in his robe was normal; but _Felix_ was always dressed, _because he was working_.

            “Telephone call, Mr. Gold. It’s your father.”

            “Tell him I’m coming.” Peter said, and he rose to his feet. The servant left, and Peter sauntered up to the bed, standing in front of Felix where he sat. He reached his free hand down and cupped it under Felix’s chin, lifting his face to look up at him. He gave him a devilish expression, raising his eyebrow before he let a mischievous grin spread across his face.

            “We will go dancing tonight.” he said. “And then you will take me home, to my bed, and _ravish_ me, the way I know you want to.”

            He leaned down and pressed his lips to Felix’s forehead.

            He slipped away, his fingers sliding like oil over Felix’s chin before he walked out the door of his enormous bedroom, leaving Felix’s entire body on fire, his heart racing, his brain scrambled.


	2. Chapter 2

Felix parked the car outside Peter’s favorite joint of his father’s—a speakeasy called “Neverland”. He got out to open Peter’s door out of habit, only to remember he wasn’t there.

Earlier that day, during lunch, Peter had pressed a note into his hand, telling him to be here at nine, and nothing else. Felix pulled his watched out of his pocket and checked the time. Eight-fifty. He swallowed down his nerves, having no fucking idea what Peter planned, still considering that this might be his last night alive.

He walked into the joint as if everything was normal, even as he was certain he was spelling his own doom. The door opened for him without him even having to say a word, they knew him so well. The band already had a jazzy song going, couples out on the floor, having the time of their lives.

Felix walked over to the bar and ordered a scotch. He hardly ever drank; almost never, in fact. It was his job to keep an eye on Peter; it was his job to stay sober so Peter could throw caution to the wind and get as plastered as he liked. But right now, he needed a little something to settle his nerves. This was Peter. Anything at all could happen.

He leaned against the bar, watching the crowd under the dim lights, swishing the scotch around in his mouth before swallowing. Damn, it was quality. Had to hand it to Rumple; he deserved to be the kingpin he was.

A young flapper sauntered over to him from out of the crowd, leaning against the bar a few inches from him.

“You look lonely.” she said. He shook his head.

“Just waiting for someone.”

She snorted, in a very, very familiar way. Felix turned to look at her directly and for the first time, possibly ever, his deadpan expression cracked, just a bit, as his mouth parted.

“Pe…”

“Petunia, nice to meet you, darling.” he said. Felix gaped. Peter was dressed in a sexy, short black dress that fell to his knees, the bottom ending in sequined fronds all around. He had on ladies heels and had shaved all the hair from his legs, as if they hadn’t already looked feminine enough already. He had a black and white feather boa draped over his shoulders, and black gloves up to his elbows, making his hands look even more feminine than they normally did. He had on a gorgeous white cloche hat with a black ribbon around the trim, hiding the fact that his hair was too short even for a flapper.

“Do stop staring and order a lady a drink.” he said. Felix stumbled on his own words. The bar tender smirked and gave him a wink. Apparently, Peter was attractive.

“I…was just…stunned by you.” he said, and Peter gave him a wink. He turned his head, more light shining onto his face, and Felix saw the rouge on his cheeks then, and the dark red lipstick.

He was about to ask Peter what he wanted when he remembered he already knew.

“A martini for the lady.” he said, and the bartender happily went to work, eager to help Felix score for the night.

They both leaned against the bar and chatted as if this was a first date.

“So do you come here often?” Peter asked. Felix couldn’t decide if he wanted to punch him, kiss him, or throw him to the floor and fuck him. Possibly all three at once.

“At least twice a week.” he said. “The little nitwit I work for loves this place.”

Peter delicately placed his empty martini glass on the bar top and held out his hand, wrist pointed up.

“Aren’t you going to ask me to dance?”

Flustered and buzzed, Felix clumsily took Peter’s gloved hand , sliding his dainty fingers into his much larger palm, guiding him towards the dance floor. The people parted to make room for them, but not the way they did when Peter was…well, _recognizable_. People just thought, probably, that it was Felix’s night off and he’d finally found himself a dame.

The jazz band slowed to a more romantic tune, and if it wasn’t impossible, Felix would have thought Peter planned it. Peter took Felix’s hand and placed it on his waist, then lifted his other hand up to his shoulder. Felix took his cue and lifted Peter’s other hand into his own. He pulled his body close, and Peter melted to him, pressing his cheek against Felix’s chin as they swayed. The dress Peter wore was thin and Felix could feel every shift in his hips as he swayed.

He closed his eyes, his heart racing from excitement and terror. It was everything he’d never dared dream; and it was everything that could destroy him.

“Stop being so scared.” Peter whispered into his ear. “I’ve got more to lose from this than you do.”

Felix instinctually pulled Peter closer to him, to protect him. He thought about what he said. Wasn’t sure how Rumple would react if he saw this. Felix would surely end up at the bottom of the river; but would he do the same to his own son? There was no way to tell. But he certainly wouldn’t trust him with any of the family’s business anymore. Peter would be outcast, cut off; if he lived.

Peter’s breath washed over his ear, hot and slow, and he moved his lips to press into Felix’s neck. He pulled away and smiled, staring at the perfect smudge of red lipstick he’d left there.

“Now you’re a real man.” he said, batting his eyes, and Felix gave in. He dove his lips down, crushing them to Peter’s, the flavor of lipstick strange and in the way. Peter darted his tongue out, in the middle of the dance floor, in the middle of the public eye, scandalous to a fault. Felix jerked back, fire rising to his cheeks, and Peter giggled.

“Shall we get out of here?” he asked. Not waiting for a reply, he turned and led Felix by the hand towards the door, still completely sober, having had only one drink. This had never happened. This was all new.

Felix opened the door to the car and Peter slid in as fluidly as if he’d worn a dress his entire life. Felix walked around and could barely stand, completely dizzy, though he’d had not even two drinks himself. He started the car, his eyes darting into the back mirror as Peter pulled a lipstick and mirror out of some pocket Felix hadn’t even seen and began repairing his make-up.

“This is, so far, the most fun I’ve ever had in my life.” Peter said as Felix drove.

“You’re going to get us beheaded.”

Peter shrugged.

“You know me. I don’t let anything stop me from getting what I want.”

Felix possibly hit the gas pedal harder after that.

They walked into Peter’s building with him hanging on his arm, acting drunker than he was. The doorman gave Felix a wink and let them by as they headed towards the elevator.

“I’ll bet he thinks you’re bringing me up to share me with me.” Peter said. Felix’s ears burned as Peter’s breath brushed across his neck. They rode the elevator up in silence, in fear that the operator might recognize Peter if he spoke.

Then they were stumbling into Peter’s room, Peter’s arms wrapped around Felix’s neck, pulling him and kissing him, tongue, teeth, lips, everything on Felix’s face. Felix tore Peter’s hat off, tangling his fingers through his brown hair. He pulled his head back, and Peter groaned.

“That’s it, Felix. Take what you want.”

Felix was already resigned to the fact that he wasn’t going to be alive to see the sun rise, probably. So he might as well go for broke.

His mouth sucked in Peter’s skin where his neck met his collar bone. He yanked the feather boa away and Peter let it fall without protest. Felix pushed him back; he stumbled out of his shoes and fell with his back to the bed, his hands splayed at the sides of his head, his face looking up at Felix with the most seductive expression imaginable. Lipstick was smeared across everything.

Felix reached up and undid his tie in seconds. He tossed his jacket to the floor and hurriedly undid the buttons of his shirt. His eyes wandered down Peter’s body, and it was evident now that he was _no_ woman underneath. The straps of the dress draped over square shoulders and a defined collar bone; it drooped a bit where his flat chest filled in nothing, and then rose in a tight tent of black where his legs came together. Peter lifted one of them, bending his knee up to rest his bare foot on the edge of the bed, giving Felix a perfect view up his skirt.

He couldn’t tear his trousers off fast enough, the suspenders clattering to the floor until finally, he had himself naked. He leaned over Peter, crushing his lips down onto him again, licking his face, sucking all of the lipstick off. He licked his cheeks then, too; the taste of rouge making him cough but he didn’t care; he needed to see _Peter’s_ face, and he didn’t stop until it was there, clean and mischievous and bright.

His hands drifted down Peter’s arms, his eyes wandering to Peter’s as he peeled the gloves off, letting them fall to the floor inside-out. He opened his mouth wide and swallowed Peter’s lips into his, gliding his tongue roughly, heavily over him. Peter moaned, arching his back, pressing his body up into Felix’s.

Felix’s hands slid under Peter’s arched back, tracing up to his shoulders, where he pushed under them to fumble with the buttons behind Peter’s neck. Peter’s eyes gleamed at him and he licked his own lips, making Felix all but forget how to even work a button. He managed to get enough undone that he could slip the dress down over Peter’s shoulders.

He rose to his feet and clasped the cloth at the bottom, pulling it. Peter raised his hands above his head, letting them fall palms-up and batted his eyes and Felix slowly pulled the cloth down, revealing his body. His nipples stood hard in the cool air, his stomach flat and smooth as he sucked it in, his navel attracting Felix’s gaze for a long second, before the dress slipped below his waist, revealing a very pink and aroused cock over a tight set of perfect balls.

Felix let the dress fall to the floor and simply stared. Peter winked at him and rolled onto his stomach, crawling up the bed in a feline manner. He rolled onto his side, propping his head up with his hand, and beckoned.

Felix came to him like a puppet on a string, absolutely unable to resist whatsoever. This time, when their lips came together, Peter wrapped his arms tightly around Felix’s neck, pulling their bodies close. Felix felt his erection press into his leg and heat flamed through his blood. He traced his palm along Peter’s side, tickling his stomach a bit before dragging his hand over his hip, wanting to go more slowly to savor this moment, but not able to.

He wrapped his fingers around Peter’s shaft and pulled down tight. Peter moaned softly, pressing kisses into Felix’s lips. Felix stroked him fast and squeezed him hard, needy, desperate, on the brink of losing all self-control.

“Yeahh…” Peter whispered into his ear. “Take what you want, come on.”

Felix rolled on top of him and crushed his body to the mattress. Peter moaned and tilted his head back, where Felix could see kissing bruises already on his neck. They were already as good as dead. So he went in to make some more.

He bent his knees to raise his hips up, sliding his own erection to press against Peter’s. He wrapped them both together tightly in his long fingers and pulled. Peter groaned, tilting his head back like a whore, worming his body under Felix as if he was getting _paid_ to do this and needed to be as sensual as possible.

Except he wasn’t. This was all… _real_.

“Oh don’t look so terrified.” Peter said, combing his fingers through Felix’s hair. “If you’re looking terrified you’re not having a good enough time.”

Peter rolled over, out of Felix’s grasp, to the nightstand drawer. Felix froze, wondering if he was going to pull out the gun…but instead, he rolled back with a glass bottle of baby oil.

“What…”

Peter winked at him.

“Your idea is very nice, but mine is better.” Peter said. He uncorked the bottle and poured it over Felix’s hardened erection, the liquid dripping down over Peter’s as well and then slipping between his legs. Peter set the bottle on the nightstand and rubbed his hand over Felix’s dick, squeezing him tight, his palm warm and firm and _slick_. Felix moaned, pleasure driving up into his body, shutting off his brain, erasing the part of him that was afraid.

“That’s a better look on you.” Peter said, his voice breathy and eager. “I can’t wait to see your face when you’re inside me.”

Felix’s eyes opened with confusion.

“Inside…where?”

Peter laughed, his tone both mocking and adoring at once.

“ _God_ you are precious.” he said, raising his knees, spreading his legs like a woman. He slicked his hand off of Felix and slid it between his own legs, down under his balls, and _pressed them inside himself_.

Felix jerked back a few inches.

“Um, no, this can’t be a good idea, Peter.”

“It’s the best idea.” he said. “And I didn’t have it. This is what man-lovers do.”

Felix’s entire face was turning beet, beet red. Heat flamed to his ears from embarrassment and scandal and lust and it was just so _dirty_. His eyes traced over Peter, with one hand behind his head, the other between his legs…fingers _inside_ himself, and this…wasn’t…

“Come on, come back.” Peter said, biting his lower lip, pulling his hand out and opening his palm towards Felix. “Just put it right here. You won’t regret this; it’s what you’ve always wanted.”

Felix just stared at him in terror.

Peter sighed and rolled his eyes. His gaze traced down Felix’s chest, to his dick, which was somehow even _more_ fully erect and hard than it had been.

“Just stop listening to your brain. Just listen to me. Do what I tell you. Come here.”

Against all logic and reason, Felix came. He put his hands on either side of Peter’s body and raised himself up onto his knees. He looked once more into his beautiful green eyes and drowned in them.

“Just put it right here in my fingers, Felix.” he whispered, and Felix couldn’t stop himself. He burned from lust, from want, and the heat only grew as he felt Peter’s fingers wrap around him and pull him down. His tip pressed against Peter’s hot skin, and it was _hot_ skin, everything in Peter as flushed as it was in Felix.

“Go on, push in. Take me. Ravish me how I know you want to.”

He did. He was the greatest fool on the Earth…

And holy _fuck_ , he _did not care_.

Peter’s tight, hot flesh surrounded him and Felix pushed. Peter groaned with pain and winced, his entire face screwing up, and Felix immediately went to pull out. He was almost there when Peter’s hands clasped his ass and pushed him back in, and _fuck_.

“Yeah, do more of that.” Peter said, his voice breathless, nearly gone.

“But it _hurts_ you…”

Peter’s eyes flew open and he stared into his face.

“I don’t care. I want this, and you will give it to me.”

His voice sang through Felix’s blood. He would do anything that voice asked him to. He pushed back in, and Peter groaned, his hands closing into tight fists.

“Keep going, don’t stop now, don’t make this all for nothing.” he whispered.

Felix slid in and out slowly, but eagerly. It felt _incredible_ for him; how he imagined it must feel for most men who went after ladies, and suddenly he understood why they sought this thing with all they had. It felt _so good_ , and when he looked down at Peter’s body, shifting up when he pushed into him, rocking as he rocked, he knew he wasn’t going to stop.

Peter grit his teeth and grinned at the same time.

“Ohhh…mmmph…mmmm…” he said, his eyes fluttering closed. His face relaxed, the pain fading from it. “Oh, yes, Felix, come on. Do me. Please.”

Felix pushed in faster, and Peter’s head tilted back further. His hands flew up to clasp Felix’s shoulders, then wrapped around his neck.

He thrust, and Peter screamed. The sound drove into Felix and scalded him, burning him, driving him in deeper, harder, faster. Peter wrapped his legs around Felix’s hips, _pulling_ him in, his arms clasping desperately at his back, his fingernails digging into Felix’s skin.

Felix thrust harder, his legs pumping, his thighs burning, his dick screaming pleasure up into him. He sank into Peter over and over, harder and deeper, until their balls were slapping together, until their hips made a wet clapping sound every time he drove into him.

He looked up at Peter’s face and it was lost in bliss, the moans coming from his lips loud and lascivious. His face was tilted up towards the headboard, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, panting, moaning like a whore.

Felix was lost to the pleasure, his mind gone. Peter kept telling him to take what he wanted; so he did. He grabbed his wrists in his hands and pressed them to the mattress beside Peter’s head, pinning them down. Peter moaned and thrust his own hips up, pulling Felix into himself with his legs wrapped around his waist. Peter’s eyes fluttered open and closed, his face flushed from his neck to his ears, his lips swollen, his eyelashes dancing as he tried to look at Felix, but couldn’t keep his lids open.

Felix felt Peter’s entire body tense under him. He clenched, _tight_ , pulling Felix deep into him, squeezing him, driving him mad with pleasure. Peter screamed, and Felix felt his release spurt across his stomach, across both their stomachs, their skin pressed tightly together, warm and sensitive.

Felix slowed, and Peter’s eyes flashed open.

“ _No_.” he growled. “Take me like a man or I won’t speak to you for a week.”

Felix stared down into his glare and took the challenge. He pounded into Peter, forcing his cock deep into him, allowing the orgasm he’d been holding back to build up and flare inside his balls. He drank in the sight below him, Peter’s body, his, taken, ravished, naked. The softest groan escaped his lips and his eyes flew wide open, pleasure exploding from him into Peter’s heat, waves pulsing through him and making him tremble.

He collapsed on top of Peter, his skin tingling, everything sensitive. Peter’s fingers tickled over his back and he twitched everywhere he touched him.

Felix moved to slide out and Peter’s hand flew to his ass, holding him in.

“Not yet. Kiss me.”

Felix hungrily pressed their lips together, eager, unafraid, satisfied. He’d given everything. Peter had taken everything.

He pulled back, and felt himself grow soft. He slid out of Peter, wet mess dripping between both of their legs, and he winced.

“Did I hurt you badly?”

Peter’s hand moved up to Felix’s face and his fingers tangled tightly into his hair.

“I loved every second of that, and you’d better get used to it, because this is going to keep happening.” he said.

Felix’s mind wouldn’t believe it.

“You can’t possibly want to do that again.”

Peter laughed, a melodious, mischievous yet innocent sound; that way he laughed when he was about to order someone to be offed. The way he delighted in his power.

“You don’t tell me what I want or don’t want.” he said, stroking his fingers through Felix’s hair. “And don’t try to argue that _you_ don’t want to do this again.”

“I’ll do this every day if you tell me to.”

Peter laughed again, this time with delight, and kissed Felix’s cheek, then forehead, then chin.

“That’s what I thought.” he said. “I knew you just needed a push.”

Felix sighed and shook his head.

“You are something else.”

Peter grinned up at him and continued to stroke his fingers through his hair.

“So are you.” he replied. “You are the most fun there is in my life. The only reason I enjoy life, even.” he said, and Felix’s heart slowed. He buried his face into Peter’s neck to hide his expression, because that was the most affectionate thing he’d ever heard Peter say. Ever. To anyone.

“So you’re really not going to have me killed, now.” Felix said into his ear.

“Hell no. I’ll kill anyone who even _tries_ to harm you.” he said. “You’re _mine_.”

Felix sighed dreamily and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the cars outside as Peter continued to stroke his fingers through his hair. Whatever this thing they were doing was, it sure was heaven. It sure was worth everything he was risking to have it. Most definitely.


End file.
